


And Goodwill to All Jägers

by baroque_mongoose



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroque_mongoose/pseuds/baroque_mongoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late in his life, Boris finally discovers that not all Jägers are out to get him.  Oh, and a very merry Christmas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Goodwill to All Jägers

We normally go home to England towards the end of December and keep Christmas at Blackrigg Hall, but for a number of reasons we were remaining at the Embassy this year. Consequently, it seemed only proper to invite those people we knew in the area who would otherwise be on their own over Christmas. Lucilla invited Frau Gartner and Frau Schneider, two elderly widows we know from church, and I invited Pavel Ivanovich Kuchtanin and Boris. Kuchtanin declined with thanks, because he was going to his friend Piet's, but Boris was happy to come and join us, and seemed rather touched that I had remembered him. I was a little surprised at this, since we have, after all, seen each other semi-regularly since his retirement.

So there were nine of us in the house on the afternoon of Christmas Day, all enjoying a very peaceful and convivial time. Frau Gartner, who was a bright, lively, bustling little woman, was in a corner with the girls teaching them to do filet embroidery, which they had never previously tried, and which Alice in particular had been interested to learn for some time. Frau Schneider was sitting in an armchair opposite Boris, drawing out some of his reminiscences; Boris is not really a natural raconteur, but he has had a very interesting life, and when one can get him to talk about it, it is worth anyone's while to listen. The boys were playing with their new wooden trains on the hearthrug, and I was sitting on the sofa with Lucilla. There had been a heavy fall of snow, and the light and colour in the house contrasted prettily with the wide white world outdoors. The scene was, in fact, a perfect picture.

There was a knock at the door. We had, naturally, sent all the staff home over Christmas, and so I went to answer it myself. To my amazement and delight, there on the doorstep stood none other than my old friends Dimo, Maxim and Oggie.

“Come in!” I exclaimed. “And a very merry Christmas, all of you. This is a most unexpected pleasure. I had no idea you were in the area.”

Dimo laughed. “Ja, ve tot hyu'd be surprised,” he said. “De Mistress vanted to surprise Baron Gil. Zo, she vent to see heem, und vunce she vos safe on board, ve came to see hyu.”

“Und ve vish hyu a merry Christmas too,” said Oggie. He held up a huge bag. “Iz full of schveeties for de liddle vuns.”

“Thank you, Oggie,” I said, ushering them in.

“But ve know hyu can't eat schveeties now,” Maxim added, “zo, ve also brought dis.” He placed the object in question into my hands. It was a huge haunch of venison.

“Goodness,” I said. “Thank you very much, chaps.”

The children all leapt to their feet and ran to the Jägers the moment they saw them; there was a cacophony of happy shouts, a confusion of hugs, and a chaos of dropped sweets. I laid the venison carefully on the table.

“Oh, my,” said Lucilla. “That's extremely kind of you, boys, but I'm not sure it will go into the oven. You couldn't possibly cut it up for us a little, could you? Wait a moment – I'll just go and find a chopping board.” On the way past me, she asked, “Remind me. What did we send them?”

“A pocket watch, each.”

“Oh yes. I can see Dimo's chain.”

I was conscious of the fact that Boris had stopped talking. I moved discreetly to his side; I had forgotten, in the joy of seeing my old friends, that he had problems with Jägers, but I now belatedly recalled that fact. “They won't hurt you,” I said, in a low voice.

“I... wasn't expecting them,” he replied, stiffly.

“Neither was I,” I said. “Agatha Heterodyne is here visiting Gil. She wanted to surprise him, so the chaps here decided they'd surprise me.”

“I wasn't intending to blame you,” he said. He really did sound uncomfortable. “It's just... that...”

“Let me introduce you, Boris,” I said. “Chaps, this is Boris Dolokhov, who used to be Gil's chief administrator. This is Frau Schneider, and the lady over there is Frau Gartner. These three gentlemen are Dimo, Maxim and Ognian, or Oggie for short.”

“You didn't say which is which, Papa,” said Gilbert. “This is Dimo, this is Maxim, and this is Oggie.”

Lucilla returned with the largest chopping board we have, and placed the venison on top of it. “Hyu vant me to do der honours?” asked Oggie, grinning.

“Please, Oggie,” said Lucilla.

“Sure. How many pieces?”

“Oh... three, please, I think. Thank you.”

“Hyu velcome.” Oggie hefted his triple halberd, there was a blur of motion, and within seconds the venison was in three neat pieces. I admit I had feared that the chopping board might share its fate; but Oggie knows exactly what he is doing with any weapon. He barely left scratches.

“Aaargh,” Boris quavered.

“It's all right, old chap,” I assured him. “Really. But if it makes you feel better, I'll ask Oggie if he wouldn't mind going and putting that halberd in the umbrella stand.”

“Would you?”

“Certainly.” I raised my voice to normal speaking level. “Thank you very much, Oggie. I wonder if you'd mind putting that in the umbrella stand now? Then you'll have both hands free.”

Oggie looked puzzled. “Vy hyu vant der venison in der umbrella schtand, Mister Vooster?”

“Not actually the venison, Oggie. Your halberd. I'm sorry I was unclear.”

“Hyu vos perfectly clear,” said Dimo. “Iz yust dat Oggie iz an eediot.”

“Hey!” said Oggie. “Iz Christmas. Peace und gootvill und dot sort of ting.”

“Ja, hy know all about peace und gootvill, but hyu dun schtop beink an eediot yust because it iz Christmas,” replied Dimo remorselessly.

“Your, ah, halberd, please, Oggie,” I reminded him.

“Ho. Ja,” he said, and wandered back into the hall to deposit it.

“Ken ve sing some carols?” asked Maxim hopefully.

“I think that would be a wonderful idea, Maxim,” I replied. Maxim never passes up an opportunity to sing, since he has a good tenor voice and knows it; and, since both Boris and I are baritones, it was a good thing he was here. Dimo is a bass, incidentally, and Oggie is... well, Oggie is Oggie, and that is about all that can be said on the matter.

“Oh, yes,” said Lucilla. “Let me just go and put the meat away and wash my hands, and then I'll come and play the piano.”

Both my daughters, Agatha and Alice, can play the piano perfectly well, but they did not offer; they prefer to sing, and I can hardly blame them. Lucilla, on the other hand, is a natural pianist. She enjoys being able to produce a much wider range of pitches than any one person could using their voice.

“Hyu vant me to turn de pages?” asked Oggie brightly.

“Oh, thank you, Oggie,” Lucilla called over her shoulder. “Yes, please. That would be really helpful.”

“Goot idea, dot,” said Dimo. “Iz not like hyu can sing.”

“Dimo,” I said, “there was really no need to say that to Oggie.”

“But hyu know very vell he sounds like zumvun tryink to keel a...”

“Dimo,” I said, firmly. “Oggie has just offered to help, and we're very grateful for that. Now, please, don't run him down.”

Dimo shrugged. “Vell, ja, hokay. Iz Christmas.”

“Would anyone like a glass of sherry while we're waiting?” I asked. I suspected Boris probably needed one by this stage, and, indeed, he accepted with alacrity. So did Frau Gartner and Frau Schneider, and so did all the Jägers. All three Jägers tossed their drinks off at one swig. I leaned close to Boris again.

“It's all right,” I assured him. “They have a very high tolerance for alcohol. They are not going to get drunk and disorderly; and, even if they did, I know what these three are like when they're drunk. The only one who gets really grumpy is Dimo, but he tends to fall asleep.”

Agatha ran off and returned with a cloth. I was not sure if she had just noticed some stray piece of venison on the table or I had spilt a little sherry while I was pouring it, but, whichever it was, she dealt with it swiftly and effectively. Lucilla came in behind her and sat down at the piano.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a tradition in our family,” she explained. “We always start with 'O come, all ye faithful' and finish with 'Hark! the herald angels sing', but in between, we sing whatever anyone wants. So, be thinking of your favourite carols, and if I have the music to them I shall play them.”

“I... think I may sit out this time,” said Boris.

“Oh, Herr Dolokhov!” exclaimed Frau Schneider. “And I was so looking forward to hearing you sing. I can always tell, you know, what someone's singing voice will be like from their speaking voice.”

“Hyu vouldn't vant to disappoint de lady, vould hyu?” asked Maxim, with his sweetest smile.

“Are we doing 'O come, all ye faithful' in Latin?” asked Alice. It was a reasonable question, since we always did when we did not have company.

“Not this year, dear,” replied Lucilla. “Not everyone here knows Latin.”

“Well...” said Boris.

At this moment I was distracted by little Charles, who had somehow managed to drop part of his wooden engine into the coal scuttle. Agatha went for the tongs and fished it out, but in the meantime Maxim had walked straight up to Boris and draped a companionable arm around his shoulders. “Hyu come und sing vit us,” he said. “It vill be goot. De more de merrier, hey?”

“Nnnnnngh,” said Boris.

“Vot's der matter?” asked Dimo, astonished. “Hyu not scared of Maxim, iz hyu?”

“Nnnnngh,” said Boris again.

“Iz goot for der singing, dot,” said Maxim. “Hyu practise on 'ng', it loosens up der troat nizely. Dot is vot Mister Nightingale taught me. He iz a goot teacher.”

“Ah... Maxim,” I said carefully. “I know you had only the best intentions, but do you think you could possibly unhand Boris? He has rather a nervous disposition.”

“Vot hyu nervous about?” asked Maxim, as amazed as Dimo. “Hy dun bite.”

“Vell, only in battle,” Dimo amended, unhelpfully.

“Hey,” said Oggie. “Did hyu vork for der old Baron Vulfenbach? Baron Klaus?”

Boris nodded speechlessly.

“Den,” said Oggie, “vy der dumboozle iz hyu frightened of us?”

“Dot vos a pretty schmot qvestion for hyu, Oggie,” said Dimo.

Alice had had enough. She walked straight up to Boris and put her hands on her hips. “Herr Dolokhov,” she said, with that air of strained patience that the young do so well, “these Jägers are good friends. They are not going to hurt you. But you're a friend of Papa's, so they would certainly hurt anyone who tried to hurt _you.”_

“Ho ja,” said Maxim. “Hyu bet. Ve vould hurt dem all right.”

“Vit extreme prejudice,” added Dimo, with far too much relish.

“Und swords und tings,” said Oggie, just to emphasise the point even further.

Lucilla coughed from the direction of the piano. “Oh, come _on_ , all ye faithful. Get yourselves sorted out, please.”

“Well, I think they're all lovely,” said Frau Gartner.

“Meaning the Jägers, Frau Gartner?” asked Frau Schneider.

“Of course! You could tell that from the way the children greeted them.”

“Hey,” said Maxim. “Hy tink hyu luffly too. Only hy better not kees hyu, or my vife vill not be happy.”

“Hy kees hyu if hyu like,” Oggie suggested. “Look! Mister Vooster even got some mistletoe!”

“Don't use up all the berries, Oggie,” I laughed. “Lucilla and I would like some.”

“Dot means,” said Dimo, “if Oggie going to kees Frau Gartner, den hyu, Frau Schneider, got a choice. Hyu get to kees either me or Herr Dolokhov. Vhich hyu vant?”

“Er... I... ah...” said Boris.

“Why,” said Frau Schneider, “I do believe I might... that is, if Herr Dolokhov is willing...”

“Um... well... sweet lightning!” said Boris.

“Hy might haff known,” said Dimo. “Hy neffer get a kees.”

“Yes, you do,” said Agatha, and promptly planted one on his green stubbly cheek. Alice, not to be outdone, kissed Maxim, whose wife could surely not object in the circumstances.

“Oh, well,” said Lucilla, rising gracefully to her feet. “If we're going to have kisses first, you can just put that glass down and come over here, Ardsley.”

Needless to say, I did.

When we had all got ourselves straightened out, Lucilla sat down at the piano again. Boris did join us for the carols after all, accompanied by an exceedingly twinkly Frau Schneider, and we sang our way through most of the book. Even Charles joined in; he already knows a good many of the words, and he keeps in tune remarkably well for his age.

The Jägers left a little after five, with the suggestion that I might like to call at Castle Wulfenbach the following day (something I had, in any case, planned to do), because Agatha Heterodyne would be there until the morning of the day after. I wondered if she was also planning to go and surprise Tarvek; perhaps she was saving that for the New Year. Everyone else stayed for dinner, which, in the absence of the staff, was an orchestral performance conducted expertly by Lucilla. Each of us played some part in its creation – even Charles is able to peel potatoes using a safety peeler – and, consequently, there was not too much work for any one of us. Frau Gartner also tried to help, but Lucilla shooed her politely but briskly out of the kitchen. She was a guest, after all.

At last it was time for everyone to leave, and I took Boris to one side while Lucilla was helping the two ladies into their overcoats. “I hope you're now recovered from the shock, Boris,” I said. “I feel a little guilty, because if I'd seen what Maxim was going to do I would have headed him off at the pass, as it were.”

“Well... as a matter of fact, I think I ought to be the one apologising,” said Boris. “They were all perfectly polite, except occasionally to one another, and they didn't set out to annoy me once. I mean, not one of them even mentioned the extra arms. I... well, after the treatment I used to get from Klaus' Jägers...”

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “I'm sorry, Boris. I actually had no idea how badly they treated you. That explains such a lot.”

“Well, it was nothing physical. Klaus wouldn't have stood for that, for one thing. But they used to run me ragged. They couldn't see me without taking a rise out of me, and it was usually the arms, too. I mean, as if _they_ all looked like normal human beings... but, no, your friends here are quite different. A little rowdy, perhaps, but they are soldiers, after all.”

“The thing with Jägers,” I said, “is that the less intelligent ones, once they get an idea into their head, tend to stick with it. Now both Dimo and Maxim are, as you've probably noticed, pretty bright; Oggie is less so, but he is by no means the least intelligent Jäger I know. And I've seen what happens in a big group of them. Someone gets an idea and holds on to it, and then the others tend to pick it up and do the same. I imagine that's what happened with you. I'm very sorry it did; but, as you've just seen, it's not something intrinsic to Jägers.”

He nodded. “Yes, I think I know what you're saying, Ardsley. It can happen with humans, too.”

“That's true enough,” I agreed.

“And, anyway,” he said, “I... ah... well, maybe you wouldn't mind passing on my thanks to Dimo next time you see him?”

“Certainly,” I replied, “but for what, exactly?”

“Ah. Well, you see, if it hadn't been for Dimo... that is... anyway... er... well, I'm having lunch with Frau Schneider on Sunday.”

I smiled and helped him into his overcoat. “I shall be only too happy,” I replied.


End file.
